Unfortunate Son
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Sam and Dean are both having children. They just can't believe who the mothers are. SPOILER! Rate T for slight awkward scene.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Set between 4x01 and 4x02

Dean Winchester sat in his motel room, drinking whiskey. Articles, computer printouts and photographs littered the table. It had been three months since his younger brother Sam disappeared. Dean was beginning to run out of places to look.

A knock came on the door, and Dean opened the door to see a twenty-something young woman with dark brunette hair to her chest standing on the sidewalk.

"Hello," said Dean, thinking. _I recognize her somewhere._

"Hi, Dean," she said.

The voice brought back memories of their one-night stand two months ago.

"Hey, Melissa," said Dean. "Come on in." He opened the door and let her walk into the room. "So, how've you been? It's been, what? Two months?"

Melissa seemed to wince. "Yeah, two months."

"How'd you find me?"

"I used the phone number you gave me to track your phone." Dean's eyes widened a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to seem so clingy, or anything. It's just that…I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?"

Melissa approached Dean and clasped his hands in front of her. "Dean…I'm pregnant."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dean stared at Melissa. "You're what?"

"I'm pregnant," whispered Melissa. "And…it's yours."

Dean looked down at their linked hands. "Are you sure?"

"Well, you're the only guy that I've been with…I think," Melissa muttered.

"You think?" asked Dean.

She let go of his hands. "I…kind of have amnesia. Three months ago, I woke up on the side of the road with no ID, no cell phone, no memory. But, in those three months, you're the only guy that I've…and the doctor said I'm two months along." She sat down on the bed. "So, I thought you should know."

Dean sat next to her. "Is there anything you do know? Any clues?"

"Not really." She laughed a little, looking sheepish.

"What?"

"Well, I found out that I have a fear of clowns."

"Clowns? Really? That's just like my brother Sam."

Melissa looked up at him. "Sam?"

Dean stopped, his hope starting to rise. "Do you know him?"

"No, or well, I don't think I do. It's just…the name Sam feels familiar."

"Maybe it's your name."

"Maybe. You know, it might be."

"Alright, but I'm gonna call you Samantha, okay?"

"Okay. It's a nice change from Melissa."

"Okay, anything else?"

"Well, I have this tattoo," said Samantha. She unbuttoned the first button of her shirt and pulled the shirt down to reveal a tattoo just under her left collarbone. It was a pentacle inside of a sun: a demon protection tattoo.

Dean's eyes widened as he stared at the tattoo.

"Oh, and this," said Samantha. She pulled up the sleeve on her right arm to reveal a burn on the inside of her arm just below the elbow. It was healed over, just a deeper color compared to the surrounding skin. It was a circle with a small line through it, a longer, thicker line right down the middle.

_Right where Bobby burned it with a fire poker,_ Dean realized. He looked up into Samantha's familiar hazel eyes.

"I think I burned myself on the stove," Samantha told him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean got up from the bed and started pacing.

_I knocked up my brother,_ Dean thought. He instantly suppressed the urge to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach.

"Something wrong?" asked Sam—_Samantha! _Dean thought. _Samantha! Not Sam!_

"Uh, I was just thinking," Dean told her. "I think you should stay with me."

"What?"

"You have no memory, no family," Dean elaborated. "I can take care of you. I can watch out for you, protect you."

"Protect me from what?" asked Samantha.

"Just…from the world," said Dean. "I wanna take care of you."

Samantha thought about that for the moment. "Are you sure?"

"Hell, yeah."

Samantha jumped up and grabbed his hand. "Then come on."

"Where we going?" asked Dean as he stood up.

"I have an OB/GYN appointment."

As Samantha led Dean to the door, Dean smiled at the thought of his little brother headed to see a gynecologist.

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Dean stood in the waiting room, pacing. The door to the back area opened, and Samantha walked out with the doctor.

Dean walked toward them. "How'd it go?"

"Perfect," said the doctor. "Both mother and baby passed with flying colors."

"Thank you, doctor," said Samantha. Dean walked her out to the Impala, and they drove to the motel. Dean cleared all his research off the table and threw it into the trash. "You don't need that anymore?"

"Nah," Dean told her. "I've figured it all out."

Samantha looked around the room. "One bed."

"You take it," said Dean. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Thank you."

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean was woken up to the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. He sat up, looking at the empty bed. Dean walked over to the bathroom doorway. Samantha was leaning over the toilet bowl, throwing up. Dean knelt next to her, rubbing a hand on her back.

"Morning sickness?" asked Dean. Samantha nodded, her eyes closed. "It's okay, I've got you."

Samantha looked up at Dean, tears in her eyes. "Why are you so kind to me?"

Dean hesitated, unsure of how to answer. He smiled. "You're family. Family takes care of each other."

A tear fell down Samantha's cheek. "I've never had a family."

_Yes, you have,_ Dean thought. _You just don't remember._

"You do now," Dean told her. Samantha began crying in earnest as she folded into Dean's arms. Dean placed a hand on her shoulders and another one on her head, holding her close. "I'm gonna make everything better."

_I'm here for you, Sammy._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Two months later…**

Samantha's stomach had begun to bulge a month ago. She was in her fourth month, which meant it was time for an ultrasound. Dean and Samantha sat in the examination room, waiting for the doctor. Samantha sat on the exam table in scrubs, a hand on the top of her small stomach.

The doctor came into the room. "How are we doing today?"

"A little sore," Samantha told him.

"Well, that's to be expected," the doctor told Samantha. "Go ahead and lay back." The doctor pulled the ultrasound screen over as Samantha lay against the raised table. She pulled a bottle of gel out as she raised Samantha's shirt up over her belly.

Dean walked over and placed a hand on Samantha's shoulder. The doctor squirted some gel on Samantha's stomach and placed the reader on her stomach. The screen lit up as a grainy image appeared on screen. The sound filtered through the machine, a rapid thumping echoing in the room.

"What is that?" asked Dean.

"That's your baby's heartbeat," the doctor told them. "And here is your baby."

Samantha and Dean looked up at the screen to see a faint image of a tiny bundle with a head move around on the screen. Dean stared at his baby, listening to its heartbeat. He looked down at Samantha, smiling.

"It's beautiful," said Dean. Samantha smiled. Dean wrapped his arm around Samantha, hugging her.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean helped Samantha out of the Impala, holding her hands. As Dean closed the door and began to lead her to the motel door, he found his way blocked by someone.

"Damn, Bobby!" yelled Dean. "Can't you, like, cough or something?"

"Sorry, you were a little preoccupied," said Bobby, staring at Samantha.

"Uh, Bobby, this is Samantha," Dean said. Bobby's eyes traveled over her brown hair, hazel eyes, and finally, the leftover burn on her arm. He looked up at Dean, a question in his eyes. "Uh, what do you say we get you in bed?"

Dean helped Samantha into the motel room and onto the bed before heading back out to Bobby. "What are you doing here?"

"You haven't called me in two months," said Bobby.

"Right, sorry, I've just been a little…preoccupied," replied Dean.

Bobby looked at the door. "Is that Sam?"

Dean hesitated. "Yeah."

"He's pregnant?"

"He came to me two months ago, saying he was pregnant. He woke up five months ago as a woman with no memory. Four months ago, he met me in a bar, and…"

"Wait, you're telling me you knocked up your brother?"

"I didn't know!"

"Okay, so what now?"

"We find a way to turn him back."

"I'll start looking."

"Call me before you do anything."

"Why?"

Dean looked back at the motel. "We had the ultrasound today. We saw our kid. You can't change Sam back until the baby's born."

Bobby nodded. "Okay."

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean sat up on the couch, listening intently. There it was again. He looked over to see Samantha's shoulders hitching as she cried. Dean climbed off the couch and approached the bed. He laid down next to Samantha and wrapped an arm around her.

"It's okay, Samantha," Dean whispered. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Samantha latched onto Dean's arm and hugged him close. She leaned into him, searching for comfort. As Dean lay there with her, she slowly stilled and fell into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Two months later…**

Dean drove down the highway with Samantha in the passenger seat. She was six months along now, and her stomach as now as big as it was going to get. Creedence Clearwater's "Unfortunate Son" was playing on the Impala's speakers. The radio began to flicker. Dean's eyes snapped down to it as the radio turned off. The engine began to sputter.

"Son of a bitch!" said Dean as he pulled over. The car died on the side of the road. "Come on! We gotta go!"

"What?" asked Samantha. "Why?"

"Get out!" said Dean. He ran around to the trunk as Samantha joined him at the back of the car. Dean opened the trunk and flipped up the weapons cash. Samantha's eyes widened as she spotted the guns and knives.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded. "What are you—"

"Samantha!" said Dean, grabbing hold of her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Stay close."

Dean grabbed his sawed-off and loaded it with rock salt. He spun around as a spirit appeared behind them. Dean raised the gun, but the spirit disappeared.

"What the hell was that?!" asked Samantha.

"Quiet!" ordered Dean. Everything was silent for a minute until Dean was flung into a tree headfirst, dropping the gun.

"Dean!" Samantha yelled. She rushed over and picked up the salt gun, pumping the action and pulling the trigger. The salt emptied into the spirit, making it disappear.

Dean jumped up. "Samantha, you okay?"

"Do I look okay, Dean?!" Samantha yelled, her face twisted in anger and annoyance. "I'm a fucking pregnant woman!"

Dean froze, shocked. "Sammy?"

"No, it's the Easter bunny," Sam retorted. "Dammit, Dean! I can't believe you did this to me!"

"What'd I do?"

"Oh, I think you know. You couldn't keep your damn hands to yourself for one night?!"

"Well, in my defense, I'm not entirely to blame here."

"That was different, and you know it! Shit!" Sam bent over suddenly, clutching his side.

Dean darted over, supporting him. "Breathe, Sammy. Calm down. You gotta keep your blood pressure down."

"Bite me," said Sam. He stood up and punched Dean across the jaw.

Dean put a hand to his jaw. "Feel better?"

Sam sighed, relaxing. "Yeah." He stalked back to the Impala and got in, slamming the door. Dean rolled his eyes and followed him.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam lay in the semi-dark motel room on his side, resting after his long day. His eyes were closed and he had a hand over his large stomach. He heard the door open and assumed it was Dean, back from getting dinner. He sat quietly on the bed next to Sam. It wasn't until Sam felt a rough hand stroke his face that he realized it wasn't Dean.

Sam's eyes flew open, and he turned, raising a fist to strike the man. The man grabbed his wrist, and Sam struggled, his smaller body not strong enough to fight back. His fist was pinned to the bed above his head, so he raised his other fist. That fist was grabbed also and pinned next to the other one.

"Shh," the man whispered. Sam looked up into the face of a middle-aged man with a haggard face and dark, sunken eyes. "It's okay. I won't hurt you…much."

Sam tried to raise a leg to knee him, but the man entangled his ankles around Sam's ankles, pinning him helpless to the bed. The man brought Sam's hands together and pinned them with one hand. He used his other hand to cup one of Sam's breasts. A tear slid down Sam's cheek as the man began to move his hand further south. He leaned in to sniff Sam's neck, and Sam turned his face away, terrified.

"No!" Sam screamed as tears flowed down his face. "No!"

The motel door flew open, and the man was tackled off of him. Sam curled in on himself as much as he could on his side. He heard his savior punching the man, but he screwed his eyes shut, trying to escape everything. He felt small, weak and helpless, but most of all, he felt violated. He cried some more as the man was hauled to his feet.

"You sick son of a bitch!" a voice yelled in the motel room. Sam relaxed only slightly at the voice. Of course, Dean had come back and heard his scream. "Raping a pregnant woman?! You're damn lucky I don't shoot you where you stand!"

There was a scuffle as Dean dragged the man to the door.

"Someone take care of this bastard!" Dean yelled. Apparently, a crowd had gathered. "He tried to rape my wife!"

"We got him," some man spit out. "Get back to her."

The motel door was closed and locked, and footsteps approached the bed. Dean sat down on the bed against the headboard. Sam rolled into his arms, clutching him close. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's shoulders, tucking Sam's head under his chin.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean comforted. "He's gone. I'm here. Nothing's gonna get you." Sam cried into his chest, his breath hitching as sobs wracked his body. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you."

Sam's breathing was coming rapidly, and he was starting to feel light-headed.

Dean sensed this, and placed a hand on Sam's chest. "Sammy, breathe. Breathe." Sam focused on Dean's heartbeat next to his ear, and tried to match his breaths with Dean's. "That's it, Sammy." Sam closed his eyes as his breathing rate slowed back to normal. "You're okay."

They held each other for a moment until Dean leaned back, looking into Sam's eyes.

"Hey, how about we go get some dessert," said Dean. "I bet you're craving some chocolate pie."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, definitely."

"Come on," said Dean. He helped Sam off the bed and into his jacket. He wrapped an arm around Sam as they walked to the car.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

At the diner, Dean picked a booth in the corner so Sam felt safer.

The waitress walked over. "What can I get for you?"

"What kind of dessert do you have?" asked Dean.

"We got apple pie, chocolate pie, pumpkin pie, ice cream and a banana split. But the banana split is pretty big."

Dean looked over at Sam. "What do you say we split one of those, Sammy?" Sam nodded. Dean looked up at the woman. "One banana split with the works."

"Coming right up," said the waitress. She walked away.

Sam wrapped his arms around himself, trying to shrink into the booth.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Dean. Sam nodded. "You sure? 'Cause you haven't talked since…"

Sam blanched as he looked away from Dean. "I know. I just…being…like this…I've never felt so helpless in my life."

"Hey," said Dean, leaning forward. Sam looked up at him. "You are not weak. Okay? You're not. You're just in a situation that you've never been in before. I promise you, no matter what it takes, I'm gonna get you back."

Sam smiled as the waitress brought the banana split over with two spoons. Sam hungrily dug in as Dean joined him. Halfway through, Dean picked up the cherry and tossed it at Sam's face. With the whip cream on it, it stuck to Sam's forehead for a second. Dean laughed at him until Sam picked up his spoon and flung its contents at Dean. A scoop of vanilla ice cream struck Dean on the nose, smearing across his cheek. Sam leaned back in his seat, laughing out loud.

_Damn, that sounded good,_ Dean thought as he wiped his face off.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dean closed and locked the motel door as Sam stood staring at the bed.

"Sam?" Dean asked. His brother turned to him, his arms wrapped around himself. "You gonna be okay?"

In response, Sam glanced at the motel door for a second. Dean looked over and spotted the problem.

"Tell you what…" said Dean, grabbing one of the chairs. "Let's just put this right here." He shoved the back of the chair up under the door handle, jamming the legs against the floor. "There we go. That's better."

Sam visibly relaxed a little and climbed into bed. He lay on his side, arms wrapped around himself and legs drawn halfway up to his body. Dean put their bags by the door and took off his jacket, laying it over a chair. He turned the light off and looked over at Sam. He drew his legs into himself even further. Dean kicked his boots off and walked to the bed, slowly laying himself down next to Sam.

Dean wrapped an arm around Sam, giving his little brother an anchor of safety. For a moment, Sam just lay there breathing until he leaned into Dean's touch, accepting his brother's offer of comfort. Sam's breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean woke up to an empty bed. He bolted up in bed, hand halfway to his phone when he heard the shower running. Dean got up and knocked on the door. The was a small shriek, and something was dropped in the shower.

"Dammit, Dean!" Sam shouted. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, princess," Dean called through the door. "Didn't think you'd be so jumpy."

"You would be, too, if you'd almost been raped!" Sam shouted.

Dean grimaced. Rape. He hated that word. Every time he thought about that bastard pinning his brother to the bed, Sam's limbs trembling in terror, the more he wanted to get his hands on that son of a bitch and finish the job.

"Hurry up!" Dean called. "We got an appointment!"

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Where are we going, Dean?" asked Sam.

"You'll see," said Dean. They had just gotten out of the doctor's office to news that everything was going as planned, and Dean had headed the opposite direction of their motel.

"Come on, man," said Sam. "I don't like surprises."

"Sure you do, Sammy," said Dean as he pulled off the highway. Sam sat up straighter as he recognized the road.

"No, Dean," said Sam as they pulled into Bobby's junkyard. "Bobby can't see me like this."

"He already has," said Dean. Sam looked at him. "When you were…he stopped by, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Sam muttered.

"Hey, I promised him I'd take you over when, or if, you got your memory back," said Dean. "He's been looking for something to change you back."

Sam's eyes shot over to Dean. "Wait! You—"

"It's okay. I told him to wait until the baby was born." Sam stared at him, amazed. "What, I saw that sonogram, too. You're not the only one who doesn't want to kill the kid."

Sam smiled as Dean parked the car. "Never knew you were the fatherly type."

"After raising you since I was four, you kidding me?" said Dean. "It's in my bones."

Sam opened his door and slowly made his way out of the car as Dean knocked on Bobby's door. Bobby opened his door as Sam walked up the porch.

"Hey, Dean," said Bobby. He looked past Dean at Sam. "Hello, Samantha." Dean started laughing as Sam hit him in the back of the head.

"It's me, Bobby," Sam told him.

"You remember?" asked Bobby.

"Remember what?" asked Sam. "The night from hell?" Dean stopped laughing as he blushed. "Yeah, it's me."

"He got his memory back last night," Dean explained.

"How?" asked Bobby.

"I think he shocked himself back into reality," said Dean. "A ghost attacked me."

"I saw a ghost throw Dean across the road, so I jumped for the salt gun," Sam explained. "It just came back in that second."

"Did you find anything?" asked Dean.

Bobby shook his head. "Not yet. I'll keep looking."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**Two months later…**

Sam stood in the shower, washing his hair. He hated this long hair with a fiery passion. It was impossible to get the shampoo out of, and took forever to dry. He would like to cut it, but what was the point?

As he finished rinsing his hair, he heard some water pouring into the tub at his feet. He looked down at the tub floor, and his eyes went wide. He turned off the water and climbed out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. As he reached for his clothes, he called out.

"Dean!"

"What?!" He heard Dean run to the bathroom door. "What is it?! What happened?!"

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam told him. "My water just broke."

"What?"

"My water broke. The baby's coming."

"Then what are you still doing in there? We gotta get to the hospital!"

"I'm not going to the hospital naked, Dean! Just give me a minute! It's a lot harder when you're carrying an extra ten pounds!"

Sam finally pulled his shirt on, and got some past on his toothbrush.

"You're brushing your teeth?!" Dean called. Apparently, he had heard it through the door. Sam could practically see the annoyance on his face.

"Labor lasts for at least fourteen hours, Dean. I think I have time."

"Shit, really?"

"Did you not read any of the stuff I gave you?"

"Well…I might've scanned it…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Some help you're gonna be! Just get our stuff in the car, Dean."

Sam finished up and came out of the bathroom with his stuff. Dean was putting the last of their bags in the trunk. He rushed in and came over to Sam.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Dude, I'm fine," said Sam. He dropped his bundle as he clutched his abdomen. Dean reached out and caught him as his knees buckled. Sam breathed as the contraction peaked and passed. "Hospital…now…"

Dean helped Sam into the passenger seat and then grabbed the stuff Sam dropped, throwing it into the back of the car. All the way to the hospital, he floored it. It was a twenty minute drive, and when Dean parked the car, another contraction hit. Dean ran around and opened the passenger door.

"I think I'm gonna have to carry you," said Dean.

"Whatever, just get me in there!" Sam told him. Dean reached in and pulled Sam from the car as Sam wrapped an arm around his neck. Sam held his other hand over his stomach as Dean carried him through the hospital doors.

"I need some help!" Dean called. A nurse came up with a wheelchair, and he placed Sam in it.

"Can you tell me your name?" asked the nurse.

"Dean Winchester. This is my…my wife, Samantha."

"Okay, we're gonna get you two to a room here," said the nurse as she pushed Sam's wheelchair down the hall. When they got to a private room, they left Sam alone to change into a hospital gown and then helped him get into the bed. Dean pulled a blanket up over Sam as he breathed through a contraction.

"You want something to eat?" asked Dean. Sam shook his head. "Wanna watch TV? Read? Fool around on the laptop?"

Sam looked up to see the worry etched on his face. He smiled. "Thanks, Dean."

"For what?"

"For being here. This is gonna be a long, long day, and I'm glad you'll be here for me."

"That's what family's for, right?" Dean smiled.

Sam smiled. "Call Bobby. He'd want to be here."

Dean nodded and flipped his phone open.

"Dean?" Bobby answered.

"Bobby, we're at Mapleview General," Dean told him. "The baby's coming."

"Be there in ten," Bobby told him.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************8

**Ten hours later…**

Sam moaned as the worst contraction yet hit him. The pain radiated out from his spine and slowly worked its way to his front. He flung a hand over towards Dean, grasping his jacket like it was his lifeline. The nurse in the room checked his vitals.

"Good news, Samantha," she said. "The baby's ready, you're fully dilated; it's time."

"It's…Sam…" he panted through the pain.

"I'll go get the doctor, Sam," the nurse said. She came back with a syringe.

"No!" Sam yelled. "No drugs. No epidurals, no anesthesia, nothing."

"Sam, you're in pain," Dean told him.

"I've read what the possible side effects to the baby are," said Sam. "I can't do that." The nurse left the room. "Besides, I've been shot, stabbed and who knows what else so many times."

"Sam, this isn't like taking down a werewolf with a dislocated shoulder, or fighting a zombie with a broken wrist. You're giving birth."

"Dean, I'm doing this, alright?"

Dean stared at him. "Fine."

The doctor came in and walked over to Sam. "Hello, Sam and Dean. My name is Dr. Carnell. Ready for delivery?"

"No," muttered Sam. They laughed.

"It's okay," said Dr. Carnell. "First time mothers are always nervous. It's normal." He moved to the end of the bed. "It's time to start pushing."

Dean clasped onto Sam's hand as he helped Sam lean forward. Sam took a deep breath and began pushing. After twenty seconds, he fell back onto the raised bed, panting and sweating.

"Okay, I can see the head," called Carnell. "Couple more pushes, Sam."

Sam sat up and pushed again. After another twenty seconds, he thought his stomach would explode. He collapsed onto the bed.

"Alright, the head is out," said Carnell. "One more big push now."

Sam sat forward again. He pushed as a scream forced itself out of his throat. The next second, Sam collapsed onto the bed, and cries filled the air. Carnell held up a squirming baby.

"It's a girl," said Carnell. Sam smiled as he stared at the baby. The nurse cut the umbilical cord and took the baby to clean it off. "Congratulations."

Sam screamed as pain radiated around his abdomen. Carnell came back to Sam to assess the situation.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" asked Dean beside him. "Are you okay?"

"It seems as though Sam's body is not through with the delivery process," said Carnell. "This can only mean one thing." He looked up at the brothers. "Twins."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Twins? But it wasn't on the sonograms."

"Sometimes, the second child is hidden behind the first and cannot be seen," Carnell explained. "But, there's definitely a twin."

"Are you sure?" asked Dean. Sam screamed again, clutching his swollen belly.

"Pretty sure," said Carnell. "The baby's crowned. Push, Sam."

"No," Sam cried, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's head, forcing his brother to look at him. "Do it for me, Sammy. Do it for our baby."

Sam closed his eyes and sat forward, pushing. He screamed as more cries filled the air. He collapsed as Carnell held the baby up.

"It's a boy," Carnell announced. They cut the umbilical cord and took the baby to clean it off.

"Are we done yet?" Sam moaned. Dean laughed as Carnell nodded.

"Yeah, you're done," Dean reassured him. Two nurses came over with their babies, one wrapped in a blue blanket and one in a pink blanket. They gave the blue one to Dean and the pink one to Sam.

A nurse held two small hospital bands and a pen. "Do you have names picked out?"

Dean looked at Sam. "We hadn't really talked about it." He looked down at his newborn son. "But I've thought that a good boy's name is—"

"John," Sam and Dean said at the same time. They looked at each other, slightly surprised, and smiled.

Dean looked up at the nurse. "John Samuel Winchester."

She wrote it on the bracelet. "The girl's name?"

Sam looked at Dean, who nodded his consent. Sam looked at the nurse. "Mary Deanna Winchester."

The nurse wrote that and waited for the babies.

Dean brought John over so Sam could hold him, too. Sam had Mary in one arm and John in the other. He watched as they stared at him. Sam seemed to falter, and he looked at Dean.

"Here, take them," said Sam.

Confused, Dean took John in his arms as the nurse took Mary. The babies were placed in incubators and wheeled to the nursery as Dean walked over to Sam.

"What was that about?" asked Dean.

"The first few minutes of a baby's life are crucial," Sam explained. "They bond with the person who is around them. I didn't want them bonding with me since I'm not gonna be like this forever."

"Oh, okay," said Dean.

"Dean, help me up," said Sam suddenly as he threw off his blanket in a hurry.

"Why?" asked Dean as he grabbed Sam by the arms.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Sam told him. Dean helped him cross the room to the bathroom, and Sam slammed the door.

He doubled over as pain radiated up his spine, traveling through his nerves to every inch of his body. His legs and arms felt like they were stretching, his skull was fit to burst, his back strung as tight as it would go. He convulsed as his bones grinded together, his organs shifting—and in some cases, disappearing—his skin melting. As the pain faded, Sam opened his eyes, not realizing he had slammed them close. He shakily stood up and looked down, his eyes widening. His legs and arms were longer, and his breasts were gone. He rushed to the mirror and stared at his reflection: brown hair to his ears, brown eyes staring back at him, prominent chin, wide brow, broad shoulders…

His eyes traveled down his familiar body. He lifted the hospital gown to above his waist.

_Thank God_, Sam breathed. _I'm me again._

"Sammy, you okay in there?" asked Dean. Sam opened the door to let Dean see him. "Sammy! You…you're back!"

"This is not good, Dean," said Sam.

"Why not?"

"They'll be back in about fifteen minutes to take care of me, and I'm not here."

Dean's smiled faded. "Shit. Stay here. I'll get some clothes outta the Impala."

Dean rushed out of Sam's room to see Bobby waiting.

"Twins," said Bobby. "Congratulations, boy."

"Bobby, get to your truck," said Dean. "We're headed to your house."

"What?" asked Bobby. "Why?"

"Sam changed back. We can't stay here."

"I'll follow you boys."

Dean rushed to the Impala, pulling Sam's duffel out, and rushed back to Sam's room. Sam was pacing by the hospital bed. Dean threw the duffel to him, and Sam rushed to the bathroom. He came out a minute later in jeans and a hoodie.

"Dean, what about the babies?" asked Sam frantically.

"Don't worry, Sam," Dean assured him. "I'll get them, but you can't come with." Dean poked his head out to look down the hall. "Go, go." Sam slid past him and rushed down the hall for the exit.

Dean headed down the hall towards the nursery. He tapped lightly on the window to get the nurse's attention.

"Winchester," he called. The nurse and her coworker picked up two babies and showed him. He approached the door. "My wife and I are gonna take them home."

"But, sir—"

"Oh, it's okay," said Dean. "Dr. Carnell fixed her up and said we could take them home."

"Alright," said the nurse. She handed the twins to him.

"Thank you," he told her and headed for the parking lot. As he approached the Impala, Sam opened the passenger door. Dean carefully handed John to him and walked to the other side, climbing into the driver's seat. He started the car up, clutching Mary to his chest.

"Look at the bright side," said Dean.

"You mean, other than the fact that we have two beautiful children?" said Sam. Dean glanced at him. "What?"

"At least I didn't have to watch you try to breast feed," muttered Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Very funny, jerk."

Dean laughed, but then his face fell. "Oh, what are we gonna do about that?"

"About what?"

"The breast feeding. We don't have anyone to do that."

"Dean, plenty of babies survive just fine when there's no one to breast feed. That's what formula is for."

"Oh," muttered Dean as he drove.

They arrived at Bobby's house ten minutes later, and the five of them headed into the house.

Dean walked into the kitchen to find a highchair by the table. He looked at the counter to find bibs, pacifiers, small spoons, and packages of diapers. He headed for the fridge and opened it. There were bottles of baby formula and jars of baby food.

"Bobby, you did all this?" asked Dean.

"Thought you could use it," Bobby shrugged. He smiled. "Take a look upstairs."

Sam and Dean headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom with two beds. A crib stood against the wall with a baby monitor in it.

"I had it lying around," Bobby told them.

"From what?" asked Dean.

"From after the fire," said Bobby. "Your father came to me for help."

Sam looked at him. "That was mine?"

"Yep."

"Bobby…you're awesome," said Dean.

"You're welcome," said Bobby. "By the way, you boys pick names?"

Sam smiled and shuffled over to Bobby, showing him his son. "John Samuel Winchester."

Dean brought their daughter to Bobby. "Mary Deanna Winchester."

"Kids, this is your Uncle Bobby," Sam whispered to their children.

"'Bout time we had a real family," said Dean.

THE END


End file.
